Blogging from Bridport - Day 21
The cast:
Me
'The Undertaker' (husband)
'On the ground in France' (son)
'Office darling' (daughter)
'Nearly 90' (mother)
'MIL' (Mother in law)
Looking out of the window this morning I spy a traffic warden slapping a ticket on a car parked in an unused bus stop. In my humble opinion the man could be better employed elsewhere but its not his fault, its his employers who are the local council. Shame on you, not a way to treat the people of Dorset.
Moving swiftly on it was a day of shopping, queuing for medication and helping others in whatever small way we can. We both feel utterly useless compared to so many others who are holding the country together. We see the real heroes on our TV screens, hear it non stop on the news, people, most of them on a minimum wage risking their health and that of their families. 'The undertaker' goes back on call on Friday. Of course it makes me anxious, most of us have underlying worries that we keep to ourselves. We are just trying our hardest to keep it together for everyone who depends on us. 'The undertaker' works in a small team with each and every one of them knowing that they are responsible for the others welfare, so if they flout the rules it puts the others at risk.
We take the essentials up to 'MIL'. She has a greenhouse filled with vividly coloured geraniums. The afternoon sun has turned it into a wonderful hothouse, the scent of the plants is overwhelming. I do some watering and dead heading. I am in heaven. The lawn is dotted with hundreds of daisies and in a wilder part of the garden, in the small orchard, buttercups and queen Anne lace flutter in the warm breeze. We pick a huge bunch of the last of the daffodils. We are very fortunate and blessed and we know it. We sit in the sun on the driveway at a distance. 'I would make you a cup of tea' she says, her voice trails off. She's a fully qualified nurse, she fully understands how the virus spreads.
Last night when we went to bed, (missing the full moon due to cloud) we flung the windows wide open. The night air was sweet and fresh with the lights of houses twinkling in the distance. The silence was eerie and surreal and listening intently I heard the sound of an owl hooting in the woods far away on the hills.
'Is this real'? I ask 'The undertaker'? We don't know what 'real' is anymore, we decide. It's just a series of days blending into each other and held together by seeing the faces of our neighbours, strangers smiling at us in the supermarket and knowing that we are all in this together whilst keeping firmly apart!
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